


Give-and-Take

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, M/M, Relationship Issues, Self Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:29:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life’s just a matter of give-and-take, didn’t you know that? It’s common knowledge; children with an unkempt room and a cookie being proffered to them know this. So why couldn't he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there, everyone! Ticktock here. This is my first fic, so constructive crit is appreciated. Please help this poor needy soul of a newbie get better!
> 
> Don't worry; the chapters in the future will be longer.

        _"Sol, I'm sorry. Sol. Sol!" he called, reaching out with his uncalloused piano fingers.  He'd turned his back and when he had come home, Eridan was surrounded with dead cigarettes, one burning its way into his arm, orange and apricot and apple red all mixing into the air  with the cloudy gray smoke. Sollux had gaped, shoulders aching with the world so cautiously sttled upon him. He'd whirled around and left as Eridan watched him, tears rushing down his face._

          It had been three months since he'd seen that poor fool, and he's happy about it, he tells himself each day. He'd been far too clingy, _needing, needing, **needing**_ , until Sollux had finally snapped. 

      _"ED, CALM DOWN!" Sollux screeched, grabbing at his boyfriend's wrist. Eridan snarled in pain, gasping to catch his breath, and tore his hand away, nearly wrenching Sollux's damn arm out of its socket. "Thorry, thorry..." Sollux murmured, and kissed his smoldering scars. "Ith gonna be okay, but you have to let me help."_

_"Okay, Sol." Eridan had said, voice a mouse's squeak._

          And Sollux had broken his trust. 

           'Of course I did,' Sollux thought to himself, ashamed. 'I wouldn't expect less from myself.' He trudged from the asphalt gray street to their-- _his_ \--asphalt gray apartment, kicking off his shoes lethargically. The apartment had nothing in it to remind him of Eridan, no errant memories to spur him into an episode. It was eerily clean.

          Padding to the creaky sepia colored armchair, he put his head in his hands. God, he was pathetic. 

          Like moonlight waning into dawn, he was made of cigarette stars: eventually forgotten, mere smoke in the air.

 


	2. Coping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Please take a look at the notes! Heavy self harm is in this chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, watch out. Graphic depictions of self harm are in this chapter. If it triggers you, you might want to skip over it. 
> 
> ALSO, thank you for the kudos! Those two guests and ChamberlainAquarius made my day. Thank you all! <3
> 
> Sorry, this chapter is a bit more prologue-y than I figured it'd be (also shorter!), but I'm satisfied with it. 
> 
> Thank you for reading my humble fic!

         The rain struck the ground, tiny droplets impacting upon the pavement quickly, so quickly, as if an urgent need drove them to fall so many miles to the ground and meet their deaths upon the planet. Eridan could relate. He used to love rainy days, where the microscopic oceans appeared on the roadside, the sea life muddy pebbles and froth. Now, though, they just reminded him of his own messed up head. Pondering upon this, he awoke to a thought: ‘I need a smoke.’

          With a regular (balanced) person, this sentiment usually meant a casual break from reality; ash dribbling along their fingertips and through their lungs, a smoker feels in control, if for only a fleeting moment, of themselves and specifically the damage they can do to themselves. They relax into this knowledge, nicotine filtering lazily through their synapses, and breathe their lives out as smoke. But with Eridan, this had a whole different meaning, a whole different connotation than others.

          He began his simple (horrid, awful, addictive) ritual with a pack of cigarettes and a closed bedroom door. He’d shuffle over, eyeing the ivory door, so close and yet so far. He would settle his smokes on his mattress almost reverently, knowing that his itch would soon cease, if for only a fleeting moment. After, he’d walk from room to room, already knowing no one was in but himself, but needing to check just in case. He’d find no one (no soul to care, to stop him, to offer their ear to his slowly unraveling tragedy: “Revelers in the arts, you observers of the afar and the near! Come to witness the downfall of Eridan Ampora!")

          Finally, he’d retreat back to his room, somehow disappointed in himself already yet aware he’d never (couldn’t, wouldn’t) would plan on calling someone like this. How low could he get, after all? “This is just a coping mechanism,” he’d whisper, and light up. He’d watch the filter turn to ash slowly, breath thick as asphalt over his tongue, pent up behind his clenched teeth, and stare as that beautiful poison wafted up into the ceiling. 

          Then he’d bring it up to his arm, sleeve clumsily shoved up to expose the marks, and press the point into his fragile skin. The burning sensation was exquisite, clearing everything from his mind. Sighing, he would lean back onto his bed, numb bliss visiting him. It’d stay for a short while, drinking tea and enjoying his company, but when it was time to go, Eridan’s throat would dry and he’d think, ‘I need a smoke.’

          And he’d do it again and again, bedroom door creaking shut and the world growing a pleasant apathetic grey in his smoke. He’d started to love the color grey, it was so basal in its throwaway tone. “Let the blues and reds and yellows play their loud music, it’s fine if their overtures black out my own notes.” gray said to him, and he identified with it. Gray was safe. Gray was lethargic, grey didn’t care for anyone, so nobody could bother it. Eridan always thought of himself as grey. Despite the surprised glances he’d get when he’d reply, “My favorite color? Oh, it’s grey,” he felt like it was only accurate.

          Well, until he’d met Sollux Captor.


	3. New Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everyone! Wow, nearly a hundred people checking out this tiny little thing? Man, I'm really happy! Thanks for reading, really. 
> 
> Those guys who've dropped kudos upon me, THANKS! I love to hear that people like this work. One thing, though. If anyone has any constructive criticism, I'd love to hear it. Even if it's why you like/hate this fic, I'll take it and roll with it. 
> 
> Happy reading, all!

          It was a clouded over, smoky day, one of Eridan’s favorite types of weather. It calmed him down just to look up at that dull silver sky, clearing away some of that incessant, God-awful itch that plagued him day in and day out. It wrapped itself around his lungs, settling deep in his bronchioles like a warmed fragment of a friend’s words.

          He was in a bookstore he frequented, mulling over whether or not to read the new bestseller “The Fault in our Stars” or pick up something more classical, when a boy with black and white shoes trudged in. He wore a black shirt with a Gemini symbol etched upon it in a division of red and blue, along with dark jeans, and the poor soul looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. One could tell that he had a lot of wit to share with this ignorant world, and would not hesitate to open his mouth and say it.

           He gazed dully at Eridan before shuffling over to the racks of the D.I.Y. section, picking out a few coding books on Python. Eridan was fascinated by the boy, from his shoes to his smirk as he found a good title. The boy looked up and noticed Eridan watching him.   
  
          “Thtalker, much?” he muttered, hardly seeming like he cared about Eridan’s staring at all. Wow, was his lisp heavy.   
  
          “Wwhat?” Eridan stuttered like he did when nervous, shocked by his bold inquiry. “No, a course not!” he yelped indignantly. What a rude thing to say to, of all people, a stranger!

          “Whatever you thay,” Sollux chuckled, and made his way to the front of the store. Eridan, meanwhile, felt his cheeks flush crimson, scowling at the back of the boy’s brown hair. He started forward, gathering his nerve, and stopped by his side, puffing himself up and straightening his back so he could display the inch he had over this ruffian.

          “Wwhat’s your name, if you plan on bein’ such a cod-awful jerk to me?” he asked, fish puns slipping out in his anxiety. Again, the boy smirked, superior attitude leaking out from his every word.

          “Tholluckth Captor. Who’th athking?”

            Eridan glowered down at the snarky boy and muttered, “Eridan Ampora.”

          “Well, nice to meet you, I gueth. I usually don’t attract much attention from total strangers, but whatever floath your boat.” He turned to leave.

          Eridan snarled, “Well, fuck you, too!” He was in a bit of a bad mood at this point; this obnoxious boy with the lisp and the frankly messed up fashion sense had gotten right under his skin, and he had the nerve to keep burrowing.

          “Whoa, eathy there, fella.” Sollux smirked, turning to go. Eridan grabbed his wrist, and, before Sollux could wrench it away, said, “CaligulasAquarium.”

          “What? …Pethterchum? You think I’d message a pompouth moron like you? Ath if.” But before he walked out of the bookstore, he scrawled a quick note and handed it to Eridan. It read, “TwinArmageddons”.

          Eridan walked out of the store, baffled but with a lingering taste for red and blue settled in the back of his throat.   
  



	4. A brief interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a brief author's interlude. If you've read this work, please go on and read it. I'd appreciate some input.

Okay, readers. I just had a question: does anyone else think the quality of this work as a whole dropped when I began to introduce dialogue in it? Because I certainly think it did. >_>

Maybe it's just me being all down on myself, but I just don't know where I'm going with this work. If anyone has input, I'd love to hear it. I'm trying to get my prose-writing legs back (I deal mostly in poetry), and I'm having a hard time. ANY AND ALL constructive criticism is appreciated. All I ask is you be respectful.

 

Thanks, everyone. 

        -Ticktock


	5. Falling Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were falling together, down, down, until they drowned each other out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm back from the dark pit of writer's block, for the most part! Get excited! Anyways, remember, I need some concrit. I don't know how well this is turning out until someone tells me. Aside from one kind soul, no one's saying a word. Don't be so stingy, guys!

          It had been on a strikingly sunny day, one too artificial to believe it was real, the sky so blue it blinded the sun itself. Sollux was hunched in the apartment they shared, clutching a GameCube controller with both hands as he played through Pokemon XD Gale of Darkness again. He was so close to evolving his new Eevee; all it had taken was a bit of level grinding.

          Well, two full hours’ worth, but hey, it was totally worth it.   
  
          Eridan had come over out of loneliness, for Cronus, his older brother, was out, and he was utterly bored of re-reading his books on ancient empirical culture. He had left to go to the bathroom. Or something, Sollux didn’t really care either way.  
  
Until he heard a sob.  
  
          He approached the door slowly, cautiously. “ED?” he queried, stepping into the dim room, Eridan was there, back hunched, curled over his arm. Sollux choked on that unpleasant, thick aroma of nicotine. Dad 1 smoked sometimes, when he was at his wit’s end with the world, and Sollux could tell when he was in the middle of a downswing when smoke wafted up through the screen of his window and down his throat, pricking at his bronchioles.

          Anyways, Eridan startled and leapt up, stuffing his hand in his pocket and gasping when the rough fabric scraped along the fresh molten skin of his hand. He knew it would be a bad idea to do this in someone else’s house, he knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself when he felt that itch return. It had nagged at him while they played MarioKart, until he excused himself to burn a hole in his arm and smell that ashy scent and breathe again.

          Sollux stared. “ED, what… what is thith?”

          Swallowing hard, Eridan tried to scramble for a good excuse, something rational that he could use to explain this irrational addiction (for it was an addiction, yes, he knew it now). “Uh, Sol, it’s, it’s nothing, just… y’know, nothing.”

          Sollux scoffed, “Eridan. It’s clearly something, and something big.”

          And that is where Eridan had started truly crying, turning into a weepy mess.   
  
          “ED…” Sollux sighed, and brought him in for a hug. “Ssshhh…”

          Eridan curled into him, crying himself out until he could no longer hear the sizzle of his own skin.


	6. Another brief interlude

So, hello again, everyone. 

I know I'm seeming like a confidence-lacking prick right now. And unfortunately, that's where I'm at in my writing right now. I know I have potential, but I'm not living up to it.

Anyways.

I got a comment that opened my eyes (thank you, allyisallama! I really appreciate it!). And now, I'm thinking scrapping this work, TRYING real hard on it, and restarting is a good idea. I want to keep the premise, but I want to try this again, make it better, make it worth reading. I just need some time to rework this. If anyone else would like to give suggestions on anything at all, I'd love to take them still! Thanks guys. It means the world that people are reading his, but I want something more...refined, I guess? And I will achieve such. I promise.

Thanks you.


End file.
